Candy Anonymous

It's the third hour until, and as we join the city, we hear from our fellow Anthony Officer. Ahhh, thank you very much, David. Yes, I have to be late. Are you going out? Well, thank you, David.

For the Anthony, I received this letter here from an organization called Kennedy Anonymous. Out of the knowledge, Anonymous, the people can't stop eating candy. Be yelled at dealer. Unplugged victims of the confectionary curse. Waggle down the back of good place, Waidleston, rained the land to make a picture about the pitfall of the candy, deamed unfortunate souls might be saved.

I see you go home. Try not, after the Lord's weekend, the ritual good-rinkers even fall off-rest or a cloudy, nag-later-boughtment, I'm off to be brave and alert. Seamish to mow the land to partner, I'll ring the door then.

Good time to go explain about the bally-high-high-em, we gotta tell you, scroll out, cut to 27, hear my room.

Oh, hello, Mr. Moraine. I heard your live was unplugged and went over. Grand, are you in town? My new picture city comes out to be meowing all over the network. I'm told to get rid of the mind she saw in large weekends.

You had to make eye-keeping my word, honest. They tell me, are you busy right now? No, no. WCC, okay. The WCC, the WCC, the city is going to take the third rail out of the subway and put his go-to-night rail in the land.

I heard you on Jack Benny's program. Go first, please, Jack. I will stay on a literary floor. I will meet dogs before the east of an open door.

And the morning breaks, when you'll take care, I want you to help another girl.